RISE AS ONE
by Rebel8954
Summary: "Blair's attorney," Simon snorted. "Now that's two words I never thought I'd hear together." It's time to put the pieces back together after the release of Blair's dissertation.


Blair Sandburg swore the angry words still swirled around the atmosphere of the loft long after the angry slamming of the front door had abruptly terminated their argument. Sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back against the couch, the young man lowered his face into his hands. "How did we get to this, Jim?" he muttered as he recalled their last words.

 _'I can't do it, Jim! I just don't have anything left in me to fix this!'_

 _'That's your answer for everything, isn't it, Sandburg?' Jim Ellison thundered back. 'Things get tough for you and you...what?...detach with love? That's crap, and you know it!'_

 _Blair spread both arms to either side of his body. 'What do you want from me, Jim? I can't fix this!'_

 _Jim snorted as he limped towards the door. 'There's always a way, Sandburg, if you want it bad enough! But I guess that's the answer, isn't it?!'  
_

Blair rubbed his face with his hands. "Maybe there **is** a way, Jim," he whispered. "But I just don't know what it is." Slowly, he got to his feet and looked around the loft. "This is killing me, Jim. But there's no choice." Feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he slowly walked to his room and began packing.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

William Ellison carefully parked his Lexus next to his son's truck. Eyeing the truck with barely concealed amusement, he again wondered what inner streak of rebellion had possessed his son to purchase such a vehicle.

As he crossed Prospect, he carefully looked around trying to spot any reporters or photographers. Finding none, he sighed in relief. _'Maybe all that nonsense is dead and buried now.'_ Using the elevator, he looked around the third floor then followed the apartment numbers to 307. Feeling unusually awkward since Jim had never invited him to his home, he grimaced then briskly knocked on the door.

After almost half a minute, he raised his fist to knock again, then heard the door being unlocked. "Mr. Sandburg, is Jim here?" He frowned, quickly noting Blair's red swollen eyes.

"Ummm...Mr. Ellison...uhhh...hi...no, Jim's not here." Blair hesitated then opened the door. "I don't know when he'll be back, but you're welcome to wait for him."

William slowly entered the loft, looking around as Blair closed and locked the door behind him. Then he turned around. "Is something wrong, Mr...Blair?" he gently asked.

Blair swallowed uncomfortably. William Ellison had gone out of his way to be polite to Blair the few times they'd been in each other's company. He'd always suspected the elder Ellison did it in order to make reconciliation easier between father and son. _'Back in the good old days when my opinion mattered to Jim.'_

"Blair?" William put a hand on the younger man's arm. "Is anything wrong? Have you gotten some bad news?"

 _'My whole life is bad news!_ ' Blair took a deep breath to avoid laughing hysterically. "No, nothing like that, sir. This just isn't a very good day." The sympathy he saw in the older man's blue eyes nearly destroyed his last defenses. "Excuse me for a minute, please." He quickly walked to the bathroom and shut the door.

Curiously, William looked around the loft. The bookshelf immediately caught his attention. Walking closer, he saw spaces between the books. Frowning, he looked past the half-open French doors to Blair's room and saw boxes stacked next to the small bed. Glancing at the closed bathroom door, he quietly walked into Blair's room and stared at the evidence of hasty packing.

William quickly walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. Finding a pitcher of orange juice, he opened a cabinet door and removed a glass then filled it with juice. Replacing the pitcher in the refrigerator, he took the glass and walked back to the living room.

Sitting on the couch, he frowned as his eyes spotted the letter lying atop a pile of opened and unopened mail on the coffee table. Hearing water running in the bathroom, he quickly picked up the letter.

 _'Dear Mr. Sandburg:_

 _This letter is to formally inform you that your student loans are now due and payable. As you have violated your contract with Rainier University, we have decided payment must be made immediately. Please contact me no later than three working days from the date of this letter to discuss this matter._

 _We hope to be able to work out a payment schedule with you, but a sizable down payment against your indebtedness must be made immediately._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Roger Fitzgerald  
Student Loans Officer  
First National Bank of Cascade'  
_

William noted the date on the letter and realized the bank's deadline was the next day. He quickly replaced the letter and stood as the bathroom door opened.

Blair walked into the living room and half-smiled. "Sorry about that," he apologized.

"Don't give it a second's thought," William assured him, holding out the glass. "I thought this might be better than coffee."

Blair nodded, taking the glass. "Yeah, I'm not sure how long that pot's been sitting here," he admitted. Taking a sip, he glanced around. "Ummm...I'm not sure where Jim is or when he'll be back."

"I saw his truck parked outside and thought he was home," William admitted. "I'm glad to see the press wasn't around."

Blair snorted. "Well, the story's over, isn't it? I'm sure they've gone on to greener pastures." He drained the glass and walked to the kitchen.

"Is there anything I can do for you, Blair?" William gently asked.

Blair turned around in surprise. "What?"

William hesitated. "I can't imagine this whole...mess has been easy for you. And, knowing Jimmy, I can imagine he's been thinking very clearly."

"Jim's had a lot..." Blair began.

"Please don't excuse my son's bad behavior." William held up a hand to stop Blair's words. "I'm afraid he inherited that from me."

"Jim's had a lot to deal with," Blair firmly replied, meeting William's eyes.

After a few moments, William slowly nodded.

"You said Jim's truck is parked outside?" Blair asked. When the older man nodded, Blair smiled. "Good. I'm glad he didn't try to drive. His leg isn't strong enough for that yet." He hesitated. "There's a bar a couple of blocks away on Dalton Street that Jim likes. Callihan's Bar & Grill. He might have gone there."

William nodded. "Well, tell Jimmy I'll call him later."

"I'm sorry I'm not good company, Mr. Ellison," Blair sadly apologized. "But it really **has** been a bad day."

"Don't apologize, Blair," William smiled. "I understand."

Silently, Blair walked the older man to the door then gently closed it behind him.

William hesitated until he heard the door being locked. Then walking briskly to the stairs, he pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed. "Good morning, Jennifer. I need to speak with Michael. It's extremely important. Thank you."

Reaching the street, he looked around to orient himself, then began walking east. "Michael, I need you on something immediately. Can you meet me at 852 Prospect, Apartment 307 in about an hour? You'll see my Lexus parked outside. Yes, it's related to **that** mess. Good. I'll see you then."

Disconnecting the call, William crossed Prospect and turned onto Dalton as he dialed another number. "Steven, I need you to get over to Jimmy's right now. No, he's fine...I think. I'm tracking him down now. It's Blair Sandburg. It looks like everything's falling in on him. No, I don't think Jimmy knows everything. Well, get there as soon as you can. Oh, and I'll need you to come with me afterwards to the First National Bank of Cascade. I'll explain later. See you soon."

William stopped at the crosswalk and waited for the signal to cross as he dialed a third number. "This is William Ellison. I need to speak with Roger Fitzgerald on a matter of utmost urgency. Thank you." Hearing the signal to cross, he stepped into the street.

"Mr. Fitzgerald...yes, I believe we did meet at Jerry Zirkle's retirement dinner. I'm fine, but I would like to discuss a matter with you this afternoon. Would 1 pm be satisfactory? Good. No, I'd prefer **not** to discuss it over the phone." William coldly smiled. "I'm sure you **could** make an educated guess as to the matter. I'll see you at one then. Good-bye."

William stopped in front of Callihan's and replaced his cell phone. Then he opened the door and stepped in to the brightly lit restaurant. A young girl with the nametag of Missy smiled at him. "Good afternoon, sir. Table for one?"

"Actually, I'm meeting my son." William glanced from the restaurant to the left where the dimly lit bar was located. "In fact, I see him at the bar." Smiling at the girl, he edged past her and walked into the bar.

Jim sat at the bar, his right leg stretched out to one side, cane on the floor under his barstool. He was staring at the bar and sipping from a glass of beer.

William sat on the barstool on Jim's left and motioned for the bartender. "Beer. Whatever's on tap."

Surprised, Jim glanced at his father. "I've never seen you drink anything other than Scotch."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," William pointed out. He nodded in silent thanks to the bartender and put a twenty on the counter. "Start a tab with that."

"You sound like a man planning on being here a while," Jim snorted, returning his attention to the glass in his hand.

"Depends," William shrugged.

Jim sighed. "What do you want, Dad?"

"I stopped by your place," William explained. "I wanted to see how you were doing since all the talk has died down."

Jim snorted again. "You mean the public talk."

William sipped his beer and turned to face his son. "I thought you didn't care what people thought."

Jim started to wince then regained control. "I care when it interferes with my ability to do my job."

William turned back to the bar and nodded. "And the talk that's not public?"

Jim shrugged. "What do you want, Dad?" he wearily repeated.

"Blair didn't look well," William commented.

"Yeah...well...this hasn't been easy for him, either," Jim grunted.

"Did you know he received a letter demanding payment of his student loans?" William casually asked, sipping the beer.

Jim slowly lowered his glass to the bar and looked at his father. "What?"

William remained silent but looked at his son.

"Dammit," Jim groaned. "No, I didn't know." His blue eyes narrowed. "How did you find out?"

"I saw the letter lying on the coffee table," William admitted. "Blair had excused himself to the bathroom so I read it. And, no, he doesn't know that I read it." He turned on the barstool to face his son once again. "The question is...why didn't you know it?"

"Because he didn't tell me!" Jim hissed. "We haven't exactly been communicating well."

"He's packing," William advised.

"That I know," Jim snorted. "Typical reaction. Run when it gets tough."

"And I suppose you make Callihan's a daily stop in your routine?" William asked with sarcasm.

"Dad, we...Simon...Captain Banks and I got him admitted to the Academy," Jim protested. "All he has to do is complete the training. The book stuff will be snap. Hell, he's been doing paperwork for nearly three years. He could probably teach most of the courses. He'll have to take weapons training, but I could help with that. He might need a little help with the physical stuff, obstacle course and self-defense, but I could help with that, too. And the other guys in Major Crimes would help if he needed it. He'd go  
straight from the Academy to Major Crimes." He drained his glass. "Instead, he's pulling out."

William frowned. "Let me get this straight. You arranged for Blair to become a police officer?"

Jim nodded and motioned for the bartender.

William waved the man off. "Never mind. He's had enough."

"Excuse me?" Jim angrily eyed his father. "Don't you dare treat me like a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" William snapped in reply. "You know better than to mix alcohol with pain medications!"

"I'm not taking them," Jim hissed. "So I can drink if I want to."

"Now you listen to me, James Joseph Ellison!" William angrily leaned towards his son. "One, you need to take the pain medication if you need them and not use alcohol to dull the pain...physical or otherwise. Two, what in Heaven's name gave you the idea that Blair could become a police officer...much less a detective?"

"He's good enough!" Jim argued.

"I don't doubt that," William agreed. "But exactly how is he supposed to testify in court? Every defense lawyer would rip his credibility to shreds. After a few times of that, I imagine the district attorney would refuse to use him in court. Which means the defense would call him as a hostile witness for them." Leaning even closer to Jim, he hissed. "Precisely how long do you think that would last?" He leaned back. "And just how long  
would you expect Blair to take it? As things now stand, he has no credibility."

"We'd work it out," Jim quickly muttered.

"Really? How? Do you think it'll work out just because you say it will?" William demanded. He shook his head. "It seems to me that Blair is the only one thinking clearly here. Which leads me to number three." He waited until Jim looked at him. "Blair's departure. Why are you allowing that to happen?"

"Shit," Jim sighed. "I don't know. We just...can't talk anymore."

"Or listen," William pointed out.

Jim grunted and stood, reaching for his wallet.

William waved him off and motioned for the bartender. "Does the twenty cover everything for both of us?" When the man nodded, William smiled. "Keep the change."

Jim retrieved his cane and limped towards the door. When his father reached out to help him, he snapped, "I only had one beer, Dad. I can walk."

"Good. I wasn't sure you could do that with your head up your ass."

Jim stopped and glared at his father as the older man walked by him.

"Come on, Jimmy." William held the door open for his son. "I called Steven and Michael Hamm. They're going to meet us at your place."

"Why is your lawyer coming?" Jim grunted.

"Why do you think?" William asked with a glint in his blue eyes.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

 _'Boxes...I need more boxes.'_ Blair glanced around his crowded bedroom and sighed. He wasn't sure Jim would allow him to store his belongings in the loft's storage space so he planned to ask Megan if she would keep them for him for a while. Just until he figured out where he was going and what he was going to do.

Walking through the living room, he saw the letter from the First National Bank of Cascade and winced. He told himself he would call the Loan Officer later in the day. Snatching his keys from the basket by the door, he locked the door behind him and headed downstairs to canvass the neighborhood stores for empty boxes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jim and William saw Steven's car parked next to William's Lexus. As they started into the building, William saw a BMW pull in next to Steven's car. "That's Michael. Why don't you go on ahead? I'll bring him up."

Jim nodded and wearily headed for the elevator. Punching the button for the third floor, he leaned against the side of the elevator and closed his eyes. _'What the hell's happening with us, Chief?'_ He snorted, knowing the answer. They were both angry...mad...pissed as hell at the situation, at everyone around them, and…at each other.

Standing upright when the elevator doors opened, he frowned as he saw Steven leaning against his front door.

"Nobody's home," Steven explained as he moved aside.

Jim quickly unlocked the door and limped inside. "Blair?!" Not receiving an answer, he quickly headed towards Blair's room then sighed in relief. "He hasn't left," he called out, seeing a couple of things he knew Blair wouldn't leave behind. Closing the door behind him, he slowly walked to the couch and sat down. "Dad and Michael Hamm are on their way upstairs."

Steven whistled. "The old man must be loaded for bear."

Jim grunted, still stinging from William's earlier words. "He doesn't need help for that," he muttered. Missing Steven's grin, he leaned back into the couch cushions and closed his eyes.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Blair slowly trudged down the corridor to the loft, a few folded boxes under his left arm. Mrs. Delaney at the corner market had told him she was having a shipment unpacked and would have plenty of boxes for him late in the afternoon.

Quietly sliding his key into the lock in case Jim had returned and was asleep, Blair gently opened the door.

"I'm sorry, Jim. I just don't see any alternative. A lawsuit is the only answer to cleaning up this mess."

"I suppose you're right. I just hoped there was...Blair?!"

Wide-eyed, Blair stood staring at the four men sitting at the kitchen table and let the folded boxes under his arm slide to the floor. _'I can't take any more...nothing more...'_ Turning, he ran down the corridor towards the stairs.

Jim jumped to his feet, cursing as his leg crumpled beneath him. "Blair! Wait!"

Without a word, Steven ran out the door and pounded down the stairs after the younger man.

Blair ran outside, hesitating only a moment before running into the street.

Hard on his heels, Steven ran after him, wincing as he heard a blaring car horn. Shoving Blair hard, the two men fell to the ground, barely escaping being run over by a speeding taxicab.

Ignoring the curses from the taxi driver, Steven pulled Blair to his feet and shoved him against William's Lexus. "Are you trying to get us both killed? 'Cause Jim would dismember me with a paring knife if I let you get hit by a car!"

"Why?! Would it spoil the big Ellison lawsuit against me?"! Blair shoved Steven away. "Hey, go ahead! Get in line! Everybody else wants a piece of me these days!"

Steven frowned then sighed. "We weren't talking about us suing you, Blair. We were talking about you suing Rainier and Sid Graham."

"What?" Blair looked at Steven in shock.

"Come on." Steven took Blair's arm. "Let's get back inside. If I know my big brother, he's probably on his way out here. And that leg is giving him fits."

Blair shook his head. "He's probably been on it too much. He should've taken the pain pill."

Steven snorted. "He can't. Dad caught him drinking at some bar and won't let him. Serves him right, too."

Blair eyed the younger Ellison in surprise and then sighed. As they entered the building, they heard William's voice.

"Jimmy, the elevator will be quicker than trying to use the stairs!"

"Dad! Jim! I've got him! We're on our way up!" Steven called up the stairway. Putting an arm around Blair's shoulders, he added. "We're taking the elevator."

Both men were silent until they reached the third floor. As the elevator doors opened, Steven patted Blair's arm. "We're going to work this out, Blair. All of us. Okay?"

Blair stared at Steven then exited the elevator. He saw Jim standing at the doorway of the loft, watching him as he walked down the corridor. Silently, he passed the taller man and entered the loft. Worried, Jim glanced at his brother who shrugged.

"Blair, I apologize for any misconception," William was saying as he offered Blair a chair at the table. He indicated the silver-haired man in an expensive gray suit sitting across the table from Blair. "This is Michael Hamm, my personal attorney. Michael, this is Blair Sandburg."

"Mr. Sandburg, it's a pleasure to meet you." Michael held out his right hand.

After a moment, Blair shook the attorney's hand then watched as Jim carefully lowered himself into the chair next to him.

Jim sighed in relief as he stretched his right leg out and rubbed his thigh.

Blair frowned, then leaned down and raised Jim's leg so his foot rested on Blair's thigh. "Better?" he quietly asked.

"Yeah, Chief. Thanks," Jim slowly smiled.

Blair turned to William. "What is going on?"

William sat at the table, smiling as Steven leaned against the island...in perfect position to keep anyone from making another dash out the front door. "I asked Michael here to explore some possibilities. Jim explained your potential employment with the Cascade PD."

Blair sighed. "I've tried to tell Jim that isn't possible."

"Not as things currently stand," Michael agreed, ignoring Jim's scowl. "Mr. Sandburg..."

"Blair, please," the young man interrupted.

Michael's dark eyes twinkled. "Blair," he nodded. "Was the material submitted your completed thesis?"

"Completed? No." Blair glanced at Jim. "I had some editing to finish."

"So it was unfinished? It wasn't in a form that you would present for your doctoral defense?" Michael probed.

"No, it wasn't."

"Did you give permission for it to be sent to either Sid Graham or Berkshire Publishing?" Michael continued.

"No. I didn't know that Naomi...my mother had sent it until it was already gone." Blair bitterly shook his head. "I didn't know she'd even accessed it from my laptop."

"Did you give permission for either Sid Graham, Berkshire Publishing, or Rainier University to release any of it to the media in any form?"

"No! See that's what..."

"Chief." Jim leaned forward and put a hand on Blair's arm. "Just answer the questions."

Blair stared at Jim for a few seconds then swallowed. "No, I expressly told Sid that I refused permission for him to do anything with it."

"Did you give permission for anyone at Rainier University to make any or part of it public?" Michael questioned.

"Absolutely not," Blair firmly answered.

Michael nodded, then smiled. "The problem is that with your press conference, any credibility you would normally have is now gone. That would make testifying in court impossible." His smile widened. "Any defense attorney would be salivating at the thought of cross examining you."

"See...this is what I tried to tell you!" Blair yelled at Jim.

Surprised at Blair's vehemence, William cleared his throat. "I believe Jimmy gets the idea now. Don't you, Jim?"

Jim slowly nodded. "Alright, yes!" He took a deep breath. "But I still think it could be worked around."

"You are so stubborn," Blair muttered, looking down at his hands.

"The resolution to this problem is to redeem Blair's credibility," Michael smoothly interrupted.

Blair glanced at the attorney, shaking his head. "My thesis is false," he quietly argued. "I can't...won't testify otherwise."

Michael waved a hand. "That's not important. In fact, that's not even the issue."

Blair stared at the attorney for several seconds in surprise. "Excuse me?" he finally spoke.

"The issue is whether what you wrote, true or false, was released against your will and without your specific authorization," Michael explained. "Did your mother have the authority to act as your agent?"

"No," Blair shook his head.

"Simply put, you could have written the Great American Novel, a Pulitzer Award Winning Thesis, or dribble," Michael explained. "It was released without your permission. Therefore, you have a good reason to sue to redeem your good name and reputation."

"Oh, man." Blair rubbed his hands on the table. "Mr. Hamm, I appreciate this but...I...uh...I don't have any money to sue anybody...least of all Rainier University and a New York publishing firm." He glanced at William. "And I appreciate the assistance, Mr. Ellison, but I don't think it would look good for you to be involved."

"Which is why I'll take the case on a contingency," Michael smiled. "My fees will come from the settlement."

"Wouldn't you have to sue Naomi as well?" Blair hesitantly asked. "Because if you do, I can't go through with it."

"Do you know where she is?" Steven asked.

"Yes," Blair slowly answered.

"Would she be willing to swear in an affidavit that she acted without your permission and gave no permission for your work to be made public?" Michael asked.

Blair slowly nodded. "If I ask her, yes."

"Then there's no reason for her to be a part of this suit," Michael decided. "She probably won't even be called to testify."

 _'Thank God. Who knows what she'd say under cross!'_ Jim wearily thought. "Give her a call, Chief."

Blair nodded then looked across the table at the attorney. "Do you think it'll work...that we could win? Even after my press conference?"

Michael chuckled. "Blair, trust me. You were put into an impossible position where greedy and unscrupulous individuals took advantage of both the situation and your good nature." His face sobered. "This is one reason I became an attorney. I **live** for cases like this. 

Blair looked at Jim who after a few moments slightly smiled.

"Do what you think is right, Chief," Jim quietly spoke. "But Mr. Hamm's right. No matter what you decide to do, you need to restore your reputation and credibility." He hesitated. "I want things to be right between **us** , too. But I think this should come first."

Blair nodded and turned towards Michael. "What do I need to do?"

Michael reached for his briefcase. "Like everything else, we need to complete some paperwork."

"Why don't I call out for Chinese?" Jim suggested. "You two could do what needs to be done and the rest of us can eat on the balcony."

William glanced at his watch. "Not for us, Jimmy. Steven and I have an appointment at one. But we'll be back later."

Steven reached over to squeeze Blair's shoulder. "Hang in there, Blair. This will all get straightened out."

Blair carefully lowered Jim's leg then walked the two Ellisons to the door. "Mr. Ellison, I can't thank you enough for what you've done."

William studied the younger man. "And I can't thank you enough for what you've done for Jimmy. Let's leave it at that, shall we?"

Steven snorted. "Don't let him kid you, Blair. He owes you a lot more for putting up with Jim if for nothing else."

"I heard that!"

"Big surprise," Steven grunted, as he walked towards the elevator.

Surprised, Blair closed the door.

Michael stood. "May I use your bathroom? I'd like to wash up if we're going to eat."

"Sure." Jim pointed towards the bathroom. "Help yourself. What would you like for lunch?"

"Anything is fine with me," Michael assured him.

Blair brought the menu and cordless phone to the kitchen table. "Jim, do you think Steven knows…about your Sentinel abilities."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Jim admitted as he reached for the phone. "He's not stupid and probably put two and two together." He studied Blair who sank onto his chair. "It's okay, Chief. I can trust Steven with this." He grinned and added, "Now."

Blair rubbed his hands on his thighs then stood up. "I need to make coffee. Order me the usual."

After calling in the order, Jim glanced at the younger man. "I meant it, Blair. I want this right between us. If you still want to leave, I'll…oh, hell, I'll still fight you about it."

Blair smiled as he glanced over his shoulder. "I never **wanted** to leave, Jim. I just didn't see any way around it." He leaned against the counter. "But you're right. We **do** need to make things right between us…not just push them aside again."

Jim nodded as the bathroom door opened. "I'll leave some money for lunch and wait out on the balcony."

"No." Blair put a hand on Jim's shoulder. "I want you to stay." Seeing Jim's surprise, he drew a deep breath. "No secrets here, okay? I want you to know where we're headed on this. Okay?"

Jim smiled. "Okay."

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Steven slowly folded the letter from the First National Bank of Cascade and put it in his inner jacket pocket. "This stinks."

William nodded, his eyes alertly scanning the traffic around them. "And highly unusual, I imagine."

"Completely," Steven nodded. "My company has been involved in repayment of student loans…confirming employment and setting up automatic withdrawals from paychecks…that sort of thing." He snorted. "This reeks of some high-handed pressure."

"Which deserves some high-handed pressure in return," William calmly added.

Steven studied his father for the rest of the trip to the bank. Just as they reached the parking lot, he asked. "Are you doing this for Blair or Jim?"

"Both," William admitted. "Blair did something very courageous. He doesn't deserve to be vilified for it." He parked the car and turned off the ignition. Staring out the windshield, he continued, "And perhaps I can try to make up for a very bad mistake I made a long time ago." Determinedly, he opened the door and got out of the car.

Silently, Steven followed his father into the bank. After a brief conversation with the young lady at the reception desk with the nametag of 'Tiffany', they were escorted to an office on the second floor.

 _'Tiffany…Missy…Didn't anybody give their daughters regular names twenty years ago?'_ William hadn't missed, however, the flirtatious smile the girl had given Steven…or the one his son had returned.

"Mr. Ellison! It's a pleasure. Please come in." Roger Fitzgerald was a slender man in his late thirties with a premature bald spot on the top of his head. His office was neat with a single file folder on the desk. The early afternoon light came through a floor-to-ceiling window to the right of his desk. The pale blue walls were decorated with anonymous watercolors.

All in all, Steven decided, a bland office for a bland person. _'But a bland person with just enough power to make someone's life miserable.'_

"This is my son, Steven Ellison. Thank you for agreeing to see us on such short notice," William smiled.

Steven nodded at Roger's greeting but inwardly winced. He knew his father's tone of voice. The man wasn't leaving until he got what he came for.

"How may I be of assistance, Mr. Ellison?" Roger asked as he seated himself behind his desk. His fingers tapped the file folder in front of him.

"Blair Sandburg," William began. "I understand the bank has demanded full payment of his student loans."

"You are certainly well informed." Roger's gray eyes fell to the folder. "Such an unfortunate circumstance. It was horrible that your family was dragged into such a notoriety by such a disreputable young man."

Steven clasped his hands together in his lap to prevent them from smacking Roger across the face. _'What a suck-up.'_

William merely nodded. "May I know the amount to be repaid?"

"Well, that's confidential information," Roger admitted. "However, given the circumstances…" He winked as he opened the folder and turned it around.

William leaned forward and studied the spreadsheet in front of him. "It's not as much as I imagined," he admitted as he sat back in h is chair.

"Apparently Mr. Sandburg received some grants during his not-so-illustrious career," Roger smirked. "However, he had to apply for student loans to cover the balance."

"Isn't it unusual to demand repayment this soon after…well, Mr. Sandburg's release from the University?" Steven mused.

"Somewhat," Roger admitted. "However, given that the publicity reflected badly upon your family, Mr. Ellison, we thought it best to move on this expeditiously." He smiled. "After all, you have been a customer of this bank for quite some time."

"You have accounts here, as well, don't you, Steven?" William asked, looking at his son.

"Yes, I do. Both business and personal," Steven nodded, keeping his face as neutral as his father's.

William reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his checkbook. "Mr. Fitzgerald, could you please check the balance on this account?"

Roger took the checkbook and put the numbers into the computer.

"I presume there's enough in the account to cover Mr. Sandburg's outstanding loans," William continued.

"Excuse me?" Roger turned to look at the older man.

"I intend to pay Mr. Sandburg's loans," William explained.

Roger stared at the older man in astonishment. Then he smiled. "I understand. You wish to handle this matter **personally**."

William coldly smiled. "Yes, that's it exactly."

Steven reached for the file and looked at the amount. "I'll transfer enough to my personal checking account to cover half of it," he told his father. "You'll have it tomorrow." He turned back to Roger. "I admit to being impressed with how quickly you got the ball rolling on this."

"My understanding is that the University Administration was personally involved with the request," Roger answered with another wink.

William nodded as he wrote out a check. "There is one more thing, Mr. Fitzgerald."

"Of course. Anything." The bank officer widely smiled.

"I'd appreciate it if you phoned Mr. Sandburg right now and informed him this matter has been resolved and his debts have been paid by an anonymous donor." William tore the check from his checkbook and slid it across the desk.

"I…don't understand," Roger frowned.

William shrugged as he replaced his checkbook in his jacket. "I simply don't want Mr. Sandburg worried about this situation any longer than necessary."

"But…" Roger stared from William to the check on his desk then back at William.

The elder Ellison frowned. "As you pointed out, I have been a customer of this bank for many years and have a reputation within the business community. It would be unfortunate if I chose to move my accounts…all of them…to another bank, wouldn't it?"

Roger's eyes widened in alarm. He looked at Steven who nodded in agreement.

"I believe it would be in the best interests of both you and this bank to agree to my father's request," Steven calmly advised. "Mr. Sandburg's loans have been repaid. That eliminates the bank's interest in Mr. Sandburg." He half-smiled. "Unless, of course, there's a personal, perhaps **ulterior** motive regarding the demand for immediate repayment of Mr. Sandburg's loans?"

"What?! No! Of course not!" Roger shook his head. "Forgive me. I was simply startled."

"Then there's no problem in phoning Mr. Sandburg right now, is there?" William coolly asked.

"The number's 555-4981," Steven helpfully added.

Roger slowly reached for the phone. As he dialed the number, he glanced at both Ellisons as though expecting them to stop him. Hearing someone answer the phone, Roger cleared his throat. "Mr. Blair Sandburg, please. Oh. Mr. Sandburg, this is Roger Fitzgerald from the First National Bank of Cascade. I appreciate that, Mr. Sandburg. However, I'm calling to inform you that your loans have been covered by an anonymous donor. You'll be receiving written confirmation from us in the mail within a few days. What? Who is the anonymous donor?" Roger glanced at William who firmly shook his head. "I'm afraid that's confidential, Mr. Sandburg. I'm sure you understand. You're quite welcome. Good-day."

Hanging up the phone, Roger looked at William. "He seems…startled. Grateful, but startled nonetheless."

William nodded. "Thank you for your assistance in this matter, Mr. Fitzgerald. I'll remember it."

"I'm glad to have been of service." Getting to his feet, Roger shook both William and Steven's hands before showing them to the door.

Steven waited until they were in the car before laughing. "I thought he was going to choke on his own tongue when you told him to call Blair."

William chuckled, then sobered. "What bothers me is that someone at Rainier wanted to bury Blair under those debts. He's made a malicious enemy."

"Do you think Michael needs to know this?" Steven asked with a frown.

William nodded as he started the ignition. "Wouldn't hurt." As he drove off the parking lot, he glanced at Steven. "Where would you like to eat lunch? I think we should give Michael and Blair a little more time before we get back."

"How about Rosario's?" Steven suggested.

William nodded. "Sounds good to me."

"You know it won't take Blair long to figure out who the anonymous donor is," Steven pointed out.

William shrugged, figuring he'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"That was…strange." Blair hung up the phone and turned back to the other two men in the kitchen.

"What?" Jim frowned.

Blair slowly walked back to the table and sat down. "That was Ralph Fitzgerald from the First National Bank of Cascade. He was calling about my student loans."

"They're asking for repayment already?" Michael frowned, reaching for his pen.

"Well…they were." Blair glanced at Jim, noting his angry frown. "But Mr. Fitzgerald says an anonymous donor paid them in full today."

Jim raised his hands. "Don't look at me, Chief. I don't have that kind of money."

"No, but I know someone who does," Blair quietly added.

Michael looked from Blair to Jim and then put down his pen and began eating.

"I know as much as you do, Blair," Jim quietly assured him. When Blair continued to stare at him, he sighed. "All I can do is make an educated guess."

Blair nodded thoughtfully, then resumed eating.

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Jim smiled at his father when he opened the door to allow William and Steven to enter. "Thanks, Dad," he murmured.

William simply raised his eyebrows.

Michael looked up and smiled. "I think we've come to a workable agreement. I'll file the papers tomorrow, Blair, for your suit against Sid Graham, Berkshire Publishing, Chancellor Katherine Edwards, and Rainier University. I understand you want to advise Captain Banks in advance?"

Blair nodded. "He needs to know what's going on. And I'll call my mother tonight and have her get in touch with you tomorrow."

Michael nodded, putting papers into his briefcase. "May I make another suggestion?" Glancing up, he smiled. "I think both you and Jim need to be unavailable to the press. Maybe the two of you should get away for a while."

The two men glanced at each other. Blair slowly nodded. "If you feel like it, Jim."

"Hell, yes," Jim grunted. "As far as I'm concerned, we can leave now."

"Let's wait until morning, okay?" Blair laughed. He walked Michael to the door. "Wherever we go, we'll stay in touch." He shook Michael's hand. "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Don't worry," Michael chuckled. "That's **my** job."

Blair chuckled and closed the door behind him.

"For heaven's sake, Steven, you've had lunch," William remonstrated.

Blair turned around to see Steven picking through the remains of their lunch.

"I like Chinese," Steven shrugged. "Besides, if they're leaving town tomorrow, they can't leave leftovers." He grinned at his brother. "I'm doing you a favor, Jim."

Jim rolled his eyes and leveraged himself to his feet. "Then do me a favor and clean the kitchen."

"Uh…Jim…weren't you wanting to talk with Steven?" Blair hinted.

Steven's eyes narrowed. "Talk to **me**? What did **I** do?" He saw a long look pass between his brother and friend then glanced at his father. "Oh…does this have something to do with Blair's dissertation that isn't a dissertation that turned into a press conference that's now a lawsuit?"

Jim eyed his younger brother. "Smart ass," he grumbled, as he walked towards the balcony. "I'm going to call Simon," he added as he took the portable phone with him.

"Well, yeah…actually it does," Blair admitted.

"Don't worry about it, Blair," Steven assured him as he rummaged through the containers. "I remember Jim seeing and hearing stuff when I was a kid. **And** I remember that crackling sound he heard at the racetrack."

William poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table while Blair and Steven cleaned the kitchen. "Where will you and Jim go?" he asked.

"Maybe camping," Blair shrugged. "There are a lot of places we can get to that won't be too hard on Jim's leg." He glanced over his shoulder to the balcony. "We really need to go someplace where we can get all this…negativity out of our systems." Taking a deep breath, he turned back around. "I got an interesting call while you guys were gone."

"Really?" William met Blair's eyes.

"Yeah." Blair leaned against the island. "Mr. Ellison, I can't accept…"

William held up his hand. "I've made many mistakes in my life, Blair. The worst of them were with my children." He smiled at his son's expression. "Close your mouth, Steven. It's not a good look for you."

Steven shook his head and closed his mouth. _'Oh, Jim, we have_ _ **got**_ _to talk about this soon!'_

"I understand, Mr. Ellison, but…"

"You know, Blair, I forced Jimmy to repress his senses…probably to his detriment. Certainly to the detriment of any relationship he and I may have had," William seemingly changed the subject. "From what I understand, you know the most about…Jimmy's abilities. I know you've helped him when no one else could." He smiled at the younger man. "And you've been more than a friend to him. I really hope the two of you will settle whatever's between you. I know that Jimmy would be devastated if you left."

"So would I," Blair quietly agreed.

"Now…concerning your anonymous benefactor…hypothetically speaking, of course, I would assume this person is simply trying to repay you for something you have done for him…or her…and wishes to **remain** anonymous," William surmised.

Blair sat next to William. "I think when I got that letter from the bank…that's when it all came crashing down." He stared into William's blue eyes. "I hope my…anonymous benefactor knows how very grateful I am."

"I'm sure he does." Smiling, William patted the younger man's arm. "Or that **she** does."

 **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

" **A WHAT?!** "

Jim winced and held the phone away from his ear. "A lawsuit, sir. Against Sid Graham, his publishing company, Chancellor Edwards, and Rainier." When there was silence, he added. "There's no choice, Simon. Not if Blair is to get his reputation back."

"Does he still plan on becoming a cop?" Simon asked.

Jim hesitated. "We haven't discussed that. In fact, we're heading out of town for a while. Blair's attorney thinks it would be a good idea."

"Blair's attorney," Simon snorted. "Now that's two words I never thought I'd hear together." He sighed. "It's probably for the best. He **would** have a hell of a time testifying in court. I just hate that this whole mess is going to be made public once again. Good thing you both will be out of town."

"If it's any consolation, sir, Blair's attorney thinks it'll be a slam dunk," Jim added. He smiled as the sun broke through the afternoon clouds.

"Is this lawyer any good?"

"He's my father's personal attorney," Jim confided.

Simon chuckled, then broke into laughter. "I want the two of you to stay in touch, Ellison." He hesitated. "And let me know what the kid decides. If he plans on leaving, I want a shot at convincing him to stay."

"Yes, sir," Jim agreed, mentally considering lining up all the members of Major Crimes as a debating tag team against Blair if necessary. He hung up and laid the phone on his lap.

Jim glanced over his shoulder to see his father, brother, and best friend sitting at the kitchen table. _'I probably should go break that up…in my own defense if nothing else.'_ Resolutely keeping his hearing turned down, Jim settled back in the lounge chair and closed his eyes. He had better things to do.

Like convincing his best friend not to leave.

Melinda Holley

June 2003


End file.
